


The Most Human

by EveningLily



Category: X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men Evolution
Genre: F/M, Submission and Domination
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:40:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28717419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EveningLily/pseuds/EveningLily
Summary: On some evenings, they became more than the individuals known as Storm and Magneto. He thought she enjoyed it a little more than she should.
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Ororo Munroe, Magneto/Storm, Ororo Munroe/Erik Lehnsherr, Storm/Magneto
Kudos: 3





	The Most Human

There weren't many people on this earth who could deny that her beauty was otherworldly. Even those not of this earth were mesmerized by her rich, dark skin and snow-white hair dancing in the wind, emitting an aura that was both wild and elegant. It constituted an effortless allure that had, in the past, attracted the pursuit of literal gods. However, she had come to detest the same type of reverence that was constantly placed on her as if she was an altar of worship. Goddess this, and goddess that. Yes, in her own acts of faith she heralded a Goddess most supreme and almighty, but she herself did not always want to be treated like one. For sadly, there was often a difference between praising a woman as a goddess and regarding a woman as a human being.

He knew this very well indeed. As it happens, individuals who looked as if they had been carved from the finest grenadilla and given moonstones for eyes also desired, at the end of the day, to be treated as living, breathing, fleshly humans like any other. Now, he had long believed that those born with exceptional gifts - which in her case, included angelic beauty _and_ earth-shattering mutant abilities - should embrace their superiority. Therefore he couldn't say he agreed with her stance. But he understood it, and could be sympathetic. Especially if it meant that she would come to him for a certain iteration of said treatment. In that respect, he was more than willing to bring her down to earth for a night and entertain her aching desires of the flesh, acknowledging her vulnerabilities and cravings without judgment.

"Erik?" Ororo said. He was very focused on her collarbone at the moment, along with the smooth dip formed where it met her swan-like neck. Everywhere she went, she captured people's attention; together, they captured it doubly. Right now the restaurant was filled with curious stares and whispers pertaining to the striking pair: a distinguished silver fox and a stunning black woman who appeared mature, but significantly younger than him. A supermodel and her aging billionaire boyfriend, maybe? He had overheard a married couple at the neighboring table float the idea a little while ago and repressed the urge to scoff.

"Is something wrong?" came her voice again. Blinking, he averted his gaze back up to her concerned expression.

"I am sorry," he replied, hands going to retrieve his fork and knife. "Nothing is wrong at all, Ororo. Please, tell me again what you were saying?"

Her full lips pursed as if she was going to probe him further. Ororo was not the type of woman who could be deceived easily. However, Erik was not the type of man to be pressured into revealing more than he deemed necessary. He took another bite of his poached salmon while she studied him for a moment. Unfazed, he patiently waited in silence, levelling her concentrated gaze with his own.

"My leopard orchids are blooming," she said, taking a reserved sip of water. He caught the hint of a smile behind the rim of her glass. It glimmered in tandem with the matching golden cuff bracelets she wore. He raised an eyebrow. As he began to swallow his food, he realized he needed a drink himself, since his throat had suddenly gone dry.

"Ah," he said after taking a generous gulp. "You must be very proud. You have been tending to them as a mother would for months."

She nodded, dabbing her mouth with the cloth napkin on her lap. "I feared that they would not survive in this northeastern climate."

He afforded her a small smirk. "Did you, really, Ororo?"

Her face looked uncharacteristically sheepish. "Well, I mean, I did at first. Then…"

"Then, you remembered that an unfitting climate poses no issue to someone who can change it at her will," he finished her sentence as effortlessly as he did his plate.

"Yes, yes," she said, tucking a silky strand behind her ear. "But sometimes it is nice to think of ways to overcome problems without the use of one's powers. It can be an exciting and productive challenge."

"I suppose," he replied, both of them aware that he really did not see the appeal of that perspective at all. Despite this, he did not object. Tonight was not a night for arguments. He realized, though, that with her level of reason and eloquence she could go toe-to-toe with him intellectually just as well as she could in a physical fight any day of the week. But even if the current mood was set for neither intense debate nor combat, he was still very prepared to tire her out in the next few hours.

As their meal drew to a close, she excused herself to the ladies' room for the purposes of freshening up before they left. He observed the many pairs of eyes that followed her across the restaurant, all glued to her sleek, exposed back winding in curve-hugging blue satin. Erik wondered how the men she interacted with on a daily basis could contain themselves around her. It was clear that they were all in love with Ororo in some capacity or another. She herself never described these relationships with such high esteem, as confident a woman as she was. However, Erik was able to glean as much from what she did tell him every time they met.

Ever devoted to her job, Ororo never shared anything classified. He didn't care to know, anyway - didn't need to. On evenings like this, they inhabited an unspoken truce. He was perfectly content to listen to the quotidian humdrum of her life. This often concerned her many hobbies, or humorous little affairs having to do with other people close to her: Evan, a nephew that she loved dearly but drove her up the wall with his antics (and happened to maintain a vehement rivalry with his own son), the rest of the students at the institute and their many teenage trials for which she had to regularly serve as counsel, and of course, her enamored fellow instructors.

Charles was taken by her class and kindness, obviously. He deeply admired the way she enriched the lives of others through her own passions, which included things outside of being a member of the X-Men, like gardening or music. Some of his most treasured moments were when she played piano for him in the parlor. Hank adored how cultivated and well-read she was. She could recite lines from _Antony and Cleopatra_ back and forth with him as if they were having a casual conversation. Then there was Forge, who admired her creativity and critical thinking skills. Mechanical engineering was not her forte by any means, and yet she managed to offer valuable insights into his projects that no one else could. And Logan, well - Erik knew there were a great many things he found enticing about Ororo, sometimes dangerously against his better nature. From her striking looks to her ferocity to how he was one of the few lucky people to experience how truly _playful_ she could be on occasion, Ororo brought out the animal in him in more ways than one.

_And yet..._

Elbows resting against the table, Erik hid his self-satisfied expression behind interlaced fingers. It was plain to see that none of them were a fraction of the man he was. She knew that, and he knew that she knew - why else would she come to him?

When she returned he had already paid the bill. He suavely avoided her glare while he helped her put on her coat.

"Next time, I shall treat you," she said. It was more of a command than an offer.

"I will definitely hold you to that," he replied, the lighthearted sarcasm not lost on her. He gave her his arm. Erik didn't think she was capable of actually forming a pout, but the face she was giving him was likely as close to one as she could get.

"Have I drawn your wrath already, windrider?" he asked, amused. She meditated on the question for a few seconds, before hooking her arm onto his.

"Not yet," she replied, voice hard and barely tinged with mischief as they left the restaurant.

* * *

They walked the streets of New York City's upper east side with her leaning into him. He breathed in her natural scent - the smell of trees and soil after a heavy rain. Eventually, she commented on how chilly it was. Her outerwear was moderately thick, but she did only have on a scant evening gown underneath it.

"Well, if the weather isn't to your liking…" he began, and she patted his shoulder in admonishment.

"Now, now," she said. "I'll just buy a scarf from this stall. The selection looks lovely."

He eyed the cluttered but quaint stand on the corner. It was piled high with stacks of various cloth accessories - scarves, ties, bandanas, kerchiefs, and more. Atop one of the stacks was a small, precariously placed cordless lamp. These portable streetside shops usually closed by nightfall. Erik figured that the blonde intensely contemplating between two similarly patterned headbands in either hand was the reason this one was still open - much to the chagrin of the vendor. Ororo walked up to them, and he noted how she brought an instant shift in energy. Upon seeing her face, the vendor's expression turned from surly to starstruck to bashful then, finally, to one of buoyant hospitality.

"May I help you miss?" he asked eagerly. Erik crossed his arms, waiting to see how the scene would play out.

"Thank you for remaining open a little while longer," she said, voice like a spell of calm. Her features comprised a look that was pleasant but not too emotive. The most expressive trait was her eyes, which glimmered brightly in the lamplight. The blonde had paused her deliberation, also enchanted by Ororo's presence. It somehow made the other woman forget all her trivial dilemmas and worries. If he were a more easy-going type, Erik would have laughed. That was Ororo's default nature, as true as the sun rose in the east - she brought serenity to all who were lucky to cross her path, on a good day, that is. Little did the two strangers know that she could replace the tranquil atmosphere with a hurricane in two seconds flat. More often than not he was witness to, and target of, the latter.

"No problem, madam," replied the vendor. "Do you see anything you like?"

"Yes," said Ororo, nodding. "This yellow scarf is divine. How much does it cost?"

She was the opposite of many women; she always knew exactly what she wanted.

"Five dollars, madam."

She gazed back in surprise. "Oh my, such a low price for something so beautiful."

Erik rolled his eyes. There she went again, finding magnificence in the simplest, most unimpressive things.

"We are having a sale," said the man, grinning widely.

 _A sale for which only ridiculously gorgeous women are eligible, no doubt,_ thought Erik.

"I see," she said, smiling in a way that could make one's heart skip a beat. "I should count myself lucky."

The blonde chewed on her lip while watching the transaction take place. As Ororo took the scarf from the man, who thanked her profusely, the other woman shyly interjected.

"W-wait, Miss," she stammered.

Ororo turned to the blushing young lady. "Yes?"

"I was wondering…" she said, reddening even more under those placid, crystal blue eyes. "Could you help me choose?"

She held up the headbands. "Which one do you think would look better on me?"

Ororo was slightly thrown by the question. However, she considered it nonetheless, focusing on the woman's flushed, heart-shaped face.

"Well," she said, shrugging. "I think a woman's natural beauty can be complemented by any color or pattern. It is just a matter of personal preference in the end."

The blonde was speechless for a moment. They all were. Her stare fell to the dingy sidewalk. She then said dryly, "Easy for you to say, Ms. Cheekbones."

Ororo tilted her head in confusion. Erik was alarmingly close to laughing again. He touched her arm.

"Perhaps we should go then, Ororo," he suggested. "It's getting late."

"Wait, Erik," she said, remaining solidly in place. Immediately, the blonde's gaze shot back up to meet Ororo's. The taller woman had reached out to put a hand on her shoulder. It was a warm, comforting weight that permeated through the other's heavy wool coat.

"I would go with the blue," Ororo continued, pointing at the headband in the young woman's left hand. She skittishly glanced back and forth between Ororo and the floral-printed accessory.

"It will serve as a worthy crown for that beautiful hair of yours," said Ororo, as if she were coronating a queen. That was certainly how the young woman seemed to take the statement, anyway.

"Really?" she said, beaming. "Thank you so much, Miss! I'm for sure gonna buy it!"

Ororo acknowledged her gratitude with a regal nod, and that was that. The vendor let out a breath of relief, also very grateful that he could finally close down for the night. Ororo bid them both a good evening, and she strolled off with Erik.

He watched her wrap her new scarf around her neck. As they linked arms again, he admired the contrast of bright fabric against her smooth, espresso-colored skin. The yellow wasn't really appropriate for the season, but then again, she made her own seasons, didn't she?

They walked in peaceful silence for a little while, until Ororo made an idle remark.

"They were lovely people, weren't they?" she said when they reached the Baccarat Hotel.

Erik, unable to hold himself back any longer, chuckled softly.

"Ororo," he sighed as they were let inside by the doorman, who tipped his hat to her cheerfully. "You are something else."

* * *

Champagne fizzled in the two silver-embellished flutes. Ororo looked on appreciatively as a more subdued version of a signature magnetic sound filled the air. One of the flutes levitated towards her reclined figure on the large chaise.

"Thank you for all of this, Erik," she said, retrieving the lustrous item and taking a sip, while also appraising her date's more relaxed appearance. He had discarded his suit jacket and tie; she quite liked the way he looked with his white shirt sleeves rolled up and a partially unbuttoned collar.

"You know thanks are never necessary with me," he said, eyes gliding over the sumptuous contour of her hip.

"Oh, but they are," she purred, having shifted her position. There was something so illicit about seeing the normally prim and proper woman this way: laying on her stomach with her impossibly long legs swaying girlishly behind her. It felt almost sinful, or pornographic. Speaking of which...

"Ororo," he said her name with a quickly-building hunger.

Her chest swelled as she pushed herself upwards and then maneuvered into a sitting position. Perched coquettishly at the edge of the seat, she downed the rest of her champagne in one gulp and then forcefully planted the empty flute on the table next to her. The clash of glass against marble echoed throughout the room.

"Careful," he advised, his already low voice dropping an octave, sending a shiver down her spine. "Those are expensive glasses."

"Forgive me," she replied, bounding off the chaise and sauntering towards him. "I should use a more...delicate touch."

She stood before him, eyes misty with want as she raised her lips to his, enveloping him in a tender, yearning kiss. He wrapped his arms around the small of her back, holding her warm, lithe body against his firm chest. As their union deepened, he heard a low rumbling from outside. He smiled through the kiss, listening to the soft drizzle of rain pattering against the large panoramic windows. Her addictive, earthly musk was exuding more strongly than before. Kissing her was a sensory overload, but, in that moment, he couldn't imagine anything he wanted more than to continue doing it forever.

Then came the giant crash of thunder.

Erik broke away from her abruptly, gasping in shock. The world-shaking boom was still reverberating in his head. His startled eyes gradually refocused on Ororo, who looked over the moon with mirth.

"Hilarious," he said, frowning.

"Apologies, Erik," she replied. "I could not help myself..."

She brought her fingers up to the thin straps of her gown. It soon fell to the floor, the blue garment pooling around her ankles like a small oasis. Predictably, she was not wearing any undergarments.

"But I shall make it up to you," she said.

His serious gaze didn't venture from her face.

"You most certainly will."

With a swift wave of his hand, she heard the sound of his powers at work again - and felt it too. Her wrists moved suddenly against her will, jerking painfully to meet above her head, lifting her feet several inches above the ground. Making a series of surprised and distressed noises, she glanced up to see herself bound by the golden bracelets, which were enjoined like the most glamorous pair of hand restraints to have ever existed.

Outside, the thunder roared.

" _Erik_ ," Ororo said his name in a deadly warning. A lesser man would have flinched. He only smiled contentedly.

"Let me go this instant," she demanded with glowing eyes. Tendrils of white hair slithered around her foreboding visage.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Ororo," he said, summoning himself a flute of champagne. He proceeded to sip the crisp, bubbly drink while admiring the sight of Ororo suspended before him in nothing but bracelets and stiletto heels.

Rain pounded against the window. A flash of lightning ripped through the sky, filling the dimly lit room with white light for a split second. Somewhere, there was a loud electrical short circuit, followed by the power going out. Erik sighed.

"Not that _I_ much care, my dear," he said, taking another swig of champagne. "but don't you think it's rude to deprive this entire hotel of electricity simply because you're in a bad mood?"

Via the moon's illumination, along with that of the bright, flickering city lights, he could still see her well enough. She struggled violently against the restraints, thrashing and kicking in his direction. He merely backed away a few steps and took a seat on the sleek white sofa.

"You vile man," she seethed. "How dare you treat a Goddess this way?"

He curled his forefinger towards himself in a small beckoning gesture. Her wrists rapidly flew forward and downward, until they were stuck to the floor and she was in front of him hunched over on her knees.

"Quite easily," he said, surveying her with half-lidded eyes.

The cuffs tightened. She stared at the floor quietly, unable to look him in the face. He leaned down to the level of her ear, his breath ghosting against it.

"Now then," he whispered. "You know what you have to do for your freedom."

Ororo clenched her teeth. "I refuse."

The bracelets began to cut off her circulation. Her whole body shook with humiliation and rage.

"It's for your own benefit, my dear," he cooed. "Just say the words, and I will release my hold on you."

"Will you, Magnus?" she asked. Hearing the title on her lips stirred something deep inside him. Various things in the room - furniture, dinnerware, etcetera - began to levitate.

"Say it, Ororo," he ordered darkly. "All of it."

Her heart felt like it was going to beat out of her chest.

"I…" she began in a whisper, defeat setting in slowly. "I need…"

"Yes?" he pressed. "Louder, Ororo."

"I need you, Magneto," she cried, trembling. "Please, I beg of you..."

"What else?"

"I...want to serve you," she said. "You, the most powerful of all - mutant and man."

He smirked as she continued.

"I cannot resist you, Magneto. I must submit to you, with everything I am," said Ororo. "Mind, body, and spirit."

The bracelets loosened, bending off her sore wrists and falling away.

"Look at me," he said.

She did as she was told, tilting her head upwards so he could see those eyes again. They were no longer glowing, but also no less intense. The smell of her arousal consumed the air. He placed his hand on her cheek, half-cupping her jaw.

"You have always belonged to me, windrider." he said, brushing her lips with his thumb. The finger slipped into her mouth. She stroked it with her velvety tongue and sucked gently.

"Tell me, Ororo," Erik said, blood racing as he watched her perform the lewd act. "Who else among the men in your life makes you feel as I do?"

The seductive question caused her skin to bloom with goosebumps. It also made her feel a great pang of guilt.

"...none, Magnus," she replied, shame penetrating her voice.

"Hmm," said Erik. "Do they know you are capable of harboring such carnality? I'm sure two of them are. Charles, with his brilliant mind, could see right into your most licentious fantasies. But he is too in love with the idea of you as a principled beacon of decorum and grace to acknowledge your more, _ugh..._ "

He hadn't expected teeth. Ororo was glowering at him, half-piqued and half-intrigued. She resumed her ministrations, sucking him harder as he finished speaking.

Erik smiled wryly. "...unchaste side."

Ororo didn't have to hear him say it out loud to know that Erik's machismo was off the charts at the moment. Not many things could bruise Charles's ego; in fact, most who did not know him as well as they did might have assumed the good professor did not have one at all. However, she exposed the pride of all men - even ones as modest and dignified as Charles Xavier. Charles tried to hide it. Perhaps he wouldn't if he knew that his divine Storm was pleading on her knees in front of his old friend. Perhaps then, he might behave a little less like Professor X, and more like-

Erik's face shifted to a look of annoyance. "And then there is... _him_."

She almost giggled at the way he said it.

"That animal wants you, badly," he continued. "And you...you want him too at times, don't you? I bet he can smell just how much from a mile away..."

Her eyes widened.

"Don't give me that look," snapped Erik. "You know it's true. I can see plainly that you are attracted to both of them, Ororo: one who ignores your sexual drive, is _afraid_ of it even, and another who would simply get lost in it like a feral beast in the woods. The two of them are so tragically unworthy of you..."

Ororo smiled, having stopped what she had been doing prior so that she could rest her head on his thigh. What may have begun as seduction had clearly morphed into resentment. She stood up and stretched, running her fingers through her hair and splaying it outwards majestically.

"You do not give them enough credit, Erik," she said, placing her hands on either side of his face. "Perhaps this is just your jealousy speaking?"

He scowled. "Hardly. But if you think so highly of them, why don't you-"

She cut him off with her airy laughter and bent down to kiss his lips.

"Please, Erik," she said, lingering for a moment. "You were the one who mentioned them for no reason...have I already not confirmed that you are the only man that can make me so…."

She slid a hand into his lap, making his breath hitch.

"...compliant?"

He growled, feeling the balance of power shifting in a way that he was not ready for just as yet. Now he was standing as well, and though she was taller than most men, he was still taller. He grabbed her arms and pulled her close, eyes piercing.

"Then serve me as you said you would," he said, making her insides burn with prurient need. "But not as a goddess. Serve me in a way that only a woman can."

* * *

Keeping to their usual routine, he had her in every way imaginable. They were a mess of naked muscles, curves, and limbs - flexing and heaving against each other in a rhythm that fluctuated between chaos and harmony. Inside the bedroom, just like earlier in the parlor, various metal items and appliances hovered in the air while a thunderstorm raged outside the hotel. The curtains were open and the room was dark, each flash of lightning producing Ororo's arched and pert silhouette against the wall. She writhed on top of him, palming her breasts and moaning his name over and over like it was the only thing she knew how to say. A draft billowed around them, making her silky hair wisp along her face like cirrus clouds. Her pale blue eyes were incandescent with mounting pleasure, shining even brighter than they had been previously. He groaned at the sight of her riding him, also fast-approaching his peak.

As a final thread of lightning lit up the sky, her screams filled the air. They bled into a deafening clap of thunder. The explosive orgasm shook Ororo and Erik to a single, conjoined core, with a force that seemed great enough to break the planet apart and put it back together again. 

Soon they were laying side by side on the bed, panting as they came down from the moment. With each ragged breath of hers, a stormcloud faded. The rain subsided quickly, going from torrential downpour to barely a drizzle and then nothing at all.

His whole body felt heavy with fatigue.

"Ororo…" he said, barely above a whisper.

She rolled onto him suddenly, taking him by surprise. Her stare was urgent. She screwed her eyes shut and kissed him with miraculously renewed energy.

When she broke away, her eyes were glassy with moisture. However, when she spoke, her voice did not falter.

"Erik," she said. "I lo-"

"Enough, Ororo," he interrupted, face stony and uncompromising. It was like being stabbed.

"Why?" she demanded, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Why won't you let me say it? I speak only the truth!"

He pushed her off him, and though he did it gently it still felt like deepening the wound.

Erik sighed. "We agreed on the terms of this arrangement at the start."

"And?" she inquired. "Terms change. Feelings change!"

"They cannot change between us."

She grabbed fistfuls of the sateen sheets, knuckles turning white. He half-expected a stormcloud to materialize over his head. However, after a few tense seconds, she circulated the fury out of her body and simply turned away from him.

"You..." she said quietly, almost like she didn't want him to hear. "...you can't tell me you don't feel the same."

Erik had to use all his self-control to not let his frustrations loose in one huge outburst, which would have likely involved a generous amount of magnetic power. He was very rarely pushed towards the edge like this. Who else could elicit such tempestuous emotions in a person but her? The part of him he had to contain screamed all the things Ororo likely wanted to hear, and many things she probably didn't. Yes, of course he felt the same. He loved her, _wanted_ her. And not just in singular terms. He yearned for her to not only share his bed, but wanted her as an acolyte, a wife, a consort, a partner, a mistress that fulfilled his every lurid desire and then some, a life-long ally, and even an enemy still - if only to keep him on his toes always. With her, fighting was as exhilarating as making love.

She was a force of nature in every way, and like any force of nature, she could not be possessed. He knew how much she hated confined spaces; with him, she would not literally be caged, but eventually their relationship would prove to be a prison of sorts. Their bond would turn into the barrier that walled her off from her greater beliefs and passions - those of and for the X-Men. She would want compromise. She would try and persuade him to alter his righteous agenda, and that simply was not permissible.

There were also others she loved as much as him. He knew that for her, the truest romantic love did not denote a single mate with whom she would be bound to for the rest of her life. She loved many - as she had every right to - and she loved them all with equal depth. However, when he loved, he was not willing to share.

Ororo thought he refrained from exchanging the words she so coveted to protect her. Erik would never admit it, but in actuality he did it to protect himself.

He turned towards her, dragging a finger along her arm. Immediately, a blade of wind knocked him back.

"Do not touch me," she said. He smiled. _Of course, she is moody like the weather._

"Ororo, please," he said sweetly, approaching her again - albeit with caution. "Did I not do everything you asked of me?"

Silence. He let out a throaty chuckle.

"I really was close to releasing the cuffs when you first ordered me to," he said. "I was afraid you were going to rip the entire hotel off the ground and we would all perish in a cyclone."

Still no words of response. Her body, however, was shaking.

"You're either laughing or about to singe me with a lightning bolt."

She turned to face him, wearing a small grin.

"Fine," she conceded. "I suppose you deserve some praise for your performance tonight."

"As do you, _zeeskeit_ ," he said. "You are a very moving actress."

"I wasn't really acting when I said you were vile," she said, winking.

"Oh?" he inquired, sounding very fascinated. "So you must have also meant it when you said you submit to me, mind, body, and spirit?"

She became flustered. "Well, I didn't-"

"And that I am the most powerful of all, mutant and man?"

Ororo nudged his chest in annoyance, but her playful expression belied the gesture.

"Mmm," she said, feeling his strong pectoral muscles. "You _are_ very powerful…"

"I am," he said brushing his lips against hers.

"But I am more so," said Ororo coyly. "Because I can make you do anything I please."

He rolled his eyes. "That seems like an exaggeration."

"Well, I am the better fighter then."

"Now that is simply a lie."

"Want me to prove it?"

"Ugh," he said, lying on his back and rubbing his temple. "Perhaps tomorrow, Ororo. I believe you have worn me out with your _other_ physical prowesses."

She laughed that beautiful laugh of hers. "Very well, old man."

Her ample cleavage spilled over the sheets and her hair was tousled around her face. In any state, she was exquisite. He sighed again, moving to hold her head in the crook of his neck.

"Come now, zeeskeit," he said. "Let us rest."

Ororo protested sulkily. "But what about..."

She trailed off when she heard his soft whispers, the beginning of a string of sweet nothings in Yiddish. They trickled into her mind like a calming stream, and eventually she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

When Ororo woke the next morning, he was gone. She sat up in bed, sheets draped over her nude form. A chilly breeze filled the room. She gazed out the open windows, eyes welling with tears and a bitter smile on her face, reveling silently in the most human of feelings.

FIN.

**Author's Note:**

> Because Storm is one of the most amazing characters period, and the Magneto from Evolution is daddy.
> 
> (but honestly any version of Magneto is daddy)


End file.
